


Avian Alleviation

by 1JettaPug



Category: Batgirl (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Burns, Daddy Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Physical Therapy, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: "Burns on ninety percent of his body. The skin grafts seem to be taking, but he'll have extensive scarring, and he'll always struggle with pain." Each of the doctors gave him the same verdict in the same solemn tones. “In all likelihood, you might never be able to sit, stand, or walk properly ever again.”





	Avian Alleviation

**Author's Note:**

> The new Batgirl comic (#20 of vol. 5) came out where I live today, and daaaamn did it just make me want to write another one of these fics.

"Burns on ninety percent of his body. The skin grafts seem to be taking, but he'll have extensive scarring, and he'll always struggle with pain." Each of the doctors gave him the same verdict in the same solemn tones. “In all likelihood, you might never be able to sit, stand, or walk properly ever again.”

Ethan closed his eyes, feeling the pain wash over his body in waves. Tears started building up in the corner of his eyes, and he thought, “Then why am I here?” Those words had been on the edge of his lips for months now, ready to be spoken, but he doesn’t vocalize it because he can only imagine what answer the doctors will give in return. That and he didn't know what his father might say if he did. All he could do was barely nod and look to his father for support.

**X**  
XX  
XXX  
XX  
X 

 

"You know, you're doing really great for your first month." His nurse, Amy, praised him when they entered Ethan's room, and Ethan struggled to get himself on his bed with an exhausted sigh, letting Amy move his wheelchair beside his bed. She wrote something on his patient record board, most likely writing down some notes about his progress today.

"Mmmhm," Ethan hummed. He hated every movement he made. Everything hurt; he couldn't shower, listen to music or read one of his books without the sensation of agony. He knew all of this was necessary, but he dreaded every moment of movement.

He winced when Amy came over and tucked him in under the blanket, her hands just briefly gliding over his arms. Ethan watched her administer his painkillers, pushing them into his IV. His eyes darted over to the door briefly and caught sight of his father walking in, two thugs following right behind him. The nurse turned around, clutching Ethan's record underneath her arm.

"Mr. Cobblepot," she acknowledged him, politely.

"Hmph," Oswald grunted, motioning for her to move aside. "How's he doin'?"

"Ethan is doing very well, Mr. Cobblepot. He's made amazing progress for his first month, and we expect an even better-" She stopped when he held his gloved hand up, effectively silencing her.

"You may leave," he said. The two thugs escorted her outside the room and waited there for their boss.

Oswald looked to his son and beheld him with a thoughtful, long look, which made Ethan feel antsy. He shrunk in his bed as much as he could, attempting to avoid his father's gaze.

"Ya relearning all your movements, boy?" Ethan blinked. His father was attempting comforting small talk? He had to admit, he wasn't expecting that.

"Not overexerting yerself?" he asked with soft, considered words. It was such a strange, yet nice change of pace from his usual gruff tone.

"N... No... sir..." Ethan whispered, quietly. He took a moment to think over all of his current sensations. The painkillers that had just been pushed into his IV were starting to take effect, since he was beginning to feel ache-free, light and fuzzy, weightless, almost floating. The only uncomfortable thing that remained was the pressure of the catheter they’d inserted into him.

Slowly, Ethan moved his head left and right and tried to swallow over the dryness in his throat. “C... Can... you...?” he rasped and tried to swallow again.

“Here.” Oswald passed him a plastic cup filled with water, and the gesture- though simple and done without pity- made Ethan try not to tear up. There was just something about having his father focusing on him, noticing him, and caring for him, made him want to wail. He’d grown so used to not having a father in his life for so long- to not having that solid father figure that he had always heard about but never known- that he didn't know how to handle having one now.

“Yer mum called during yer therapy session,” Oswald broke the silence. Ethan stirred, his father's words catching his attention.

“Yeah...?” he asked. They had yet to really talk about his mother. The last either one of them had heard from her was that she was threatening to wring Oswald's neck if anything happened to her 'baby boy'. She'd been quick to threaten him, too, since Ethan normally called her every weekend but had failed to do so since his accident.

Oz tried to calm her, telling her that he'd payed for Ethan and some friends to go on a camping expedition of sorts. She was pissed, yelling at him to have Ethan call her the very moment he got back to civilization.

“S.... She's.... wor... worried...” he breathed, face creased with worry.

“Naturally,” he murmured, voice soft and non-intrusive.

“Sh... she's... gonna... want to... see... you.... for.... saying that...”

“She hates me, and she'd hate me even more for lying 'bout this. And I don't want to make this harder for you, boy-"

“Dad...” Ethan cut him off softly, but Oswald heard the hint of desperation in his voice.

“Ech, guess we'll just burn that bridge when we get to it." he huffed.

“Thanks...." Ethan breathed.

“Don't need to thank me, boy. I'm in this with you." he told him.

Ethan relaxed then, physically thanks to the painkillers running in his system, and his old man's efforts even brought forth a tiny, relieved smile.

"Go on now," He laid his hand near the edge of the bed, remembering not to brush it against his boy's healing skin. “Get some sleep. You'll need it for when we put you on the phone with yer mum tomorrow.” 

"Al... Alright..."


End file.
